A tree got yarn-bombed in the late autumn,
the drunks and yobbos had pulled half the mice off by the first weekend, but
someone came out and knitted them all back on or 'in' or whatever you do to
lose mice in the medium of wool?
That's it, there was a notice but I didn't
read it, I regard this stuff with curiosity and have a mixed view of it, it's
fun, but it's become a bit formulaic . . . it was amusing to see a town in
Kent, or Norfolk or somewhere (someone else's town) having all its bollards woollyfied
a few years back on Faceplant, but realising your own town is victim to the
ten-thousand-and-something'th yarn-bombing attack is more of a yawn than a yarn;
if you know what I mean!
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